


I could fall, I could lose

by twelvetrop



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, I still don't know how to do tags, Slow Burn, This is basically Russian Doll but with B99 characters, bear with me okay, i just have too many ideas sometimes, jake and amy keep dying and reliving the same day, they don't know why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-01-04 13:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelvetrop/pseuds/twelvetrop
Summary: Amy Santiago didn't really know how she was going to die. But on the day of May 24th, 2015, she gets to know that. She gets to know it over and over again, and she doesn't exactly like it.-This is basically Russian Doll except with Brooklyn Nine-Nine characters and a lot less personal introspection.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Taxi's Here" by Tame Impala.

Amy Santiago woke up with the shrill sound of one of her alarms. Turning it off, she yawned and started her daily routine, which was, first and foremost, turning off all her other backup alarms.

She took a quick (and cold) shower, shifting through her wardrobe before finding a floral shirt and a dark grey pantsuit to wear at the precinct. After that, she walked to her kitchen and crossed the date: May 24th, of the year 2015. While she waited for the coffee to brew, she stared at the month that was basically all marked up, and her head started tilting forwards from the drowsiness.

The only reason she didn’t fall asleep while leaning against the counter was because the alarm on her coffee maker started blaring and Amy quickly proceeded to pour a heavy helping of it into her cup, gulping its contents as fast as she could. The caffeine worked quickly after that, and she looked at the clock. Because she still had half an hour until her shift started, Amy decided to walk to the precinct instead of driving.

She had to start reducing her carbon footprint, anyway.

The sun was already out, but a slight breeze made Amy shiver anyway. She looked as that slight amount of wind made a trash bag float around in random patterns across the street from her, then spiral according to the wind. Shrugging herself off, she put on her headphones and headed towards the precinct.

* * *

Amy was surprised to see Jake already at his desk when the elevator doors opened but, when she was about to greet him, she saw that his head was lying cold on the table, and he was drooling onto some papers.

He had probably pulled an all-nighter, trying to chase the perp he had told her about the day before. This Foles person seemed to be one nasty human, but Jake had seemed determined to find him and bring him down and, as such, he got the way he always did. He turned his mind into a tunnel, where the only way to get out was to solve the case.

Amy smirked and smacked the desk with her boot, making Jake prop up quickly, blinking as if the world was still blurry.

“Shit.” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

“Good morning to you, too.” She said. The Captain still hadn’t arrived, so she dropped her things on her side of the desk and walked towards the kitchen aisle, turning on the second coffee brewer that day. “You should probably go home, Peralta.”

He looked at her and blinked again, as if processing her words. “Yeah, I think I can handle myself. I had…” He looked at the clock above the elevator. “Four hours of sleep, okay?”

“That’s one more hour than usual!” Amy did some jazz hands, like four hours of sleep were an amazing thing. “You should probably take a shower downstairs anyway, though. And don’t even bother pretending you brought a change of clothes.” She anticipated what he was going to say. “I know what you have on is the only thing you have with you.”

Jake opened his mouth and closed it again, deciding to just lean back on the chair he was in, his jacket on it. “You think if I put deodorant on my whole body it won’t smell bad?”

Amy grimaced. “Come on man, just go home and change.” The brewer dinged, and she poured a cup of coffee, walking over to his desk and gently placing it on the table. “Drink up and have fun.”

He thanked her and took drank a bit of the coffee cup, sighing after the fact. “You know what, I think I might have a backup shirt back in my locker.”

Amy sat on the edge of his desk and rolled her eyes and was about to reply when the elevator dinged again. Holt walked out of it, looking as pristine as ever.

“Good morning, Detectives.” He greeted.

“Good morning, Sir.” They said, in unison.

“Surprising to see you here so early, Peralta.”

“Well, what can I say. I’m in a wave of self-improvement.” He put his hands behind his head.

“He slept here, Sir.” Amy said, followed by a loud “HEY!” on Jake’s part. “I was trying to convince him to go home and change, but I think we’re stuck with this shell of a person for the rest of the day.”

Holt looked at him up and down, judging his appearance. “Go take a shower at least, Peralta.”

He waved his hand and took a heavy gulp of the cup in front of him. “Yeah, I know, I was going to anyways.”

“Anyway.” Amy corrected.

“Whatever, grammar nazi.” He got up and headed towards the elevator, calling it as the doors had long since been closed.

“Good grammar is important!” She got up from her place and wagged her finger disapprovingly, before catching herself and stopping it halfway, since he wasn’t seeing it anyway.

The familiar noise of the elevator arriving at a floor came around and Jake stepped inside the empty box, throwing a fake salute in her direction, making her eyes roll again.

_God, he’s a nightmare._ She thought.

* * *

The rest of the morning was pretty uneventful, apart from the fact that one of Charles’ cooking nightmares had somehow “fertilized wrong” in his drawer, which left the bullpen to smell like mould. Amy wanted to shoot him for that, but Rosa held her back with the promise of a better vengeance.

Jake _did _have a new shirt on (plaid, as usual, with blue and white stripes), which surprised everyone, but she didn’t question him on why he had it, since he had taken nearly an hour to get out of the lockers downstairs. His hair was still glistening by lunch time, and Amy was going to scold him about it, but chose to not to do it.

She didn’t know why she was avoiding him that particular day and, while she was eating lunch alone in the break room, Amy wondered why she didn’t just talk to him. She didn’t _hate _him, that was for sure. Not anymore, anyway. He was… a good friend, supportive. And yeah, maybe he had a little crush on the past and it caused her relationship with Teddy to crumble, but that wasn’t his fault. Just like it wasn’t her fault Sofia had broken up with him after he had admitted that he loved her.

She wasn’t overthinking a lot, these days. Definitely not.

She snapped out of her reverie when Gina threw a stapler at Charles, prompting her to go and watch the fight they were having.

She leaned in against the door of the break room, trying to get a better view of the commotion.

“The Boyles are forcing her to go to a family dinner and she’s blaming Charles for it.” Jake said, appearing next to her as if he was a narrator.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Honestly, she’ll find any excuse to harm Boyle.” He shook his head, but he was smiling. “The poor guy.”

“Maybe we should go and stand up for him.” She said, after Gina threw a random case file onto Charles’ head.

They looked at each other, and the response wasn’t even said. They feared Gina too much to even stand up for themselves sometimes, much less somebody else.

“I think we’re good. He’s got this.” Charles slipped on a wet patch of the floor and fell on the ground, butt first.

“My buttholes!” He yelled.

The whole precinct groaned simultaneously, and Charles looked at them as if he didn’t understand what he had said wrong.

Jake excused himself and went over to Charles, helping him up and chastising him on his word use for the millionth time.

“Nothing changes around here.” Amy mumbled under her breath, and then returned to the break room to finish her meal.

* * *

During the afternoon, an old lady came up to Amy’s desk and asked for some release papers. At first, Amy found it odd, but soon realised she was talking about some lost item that apparently the precinct was holding and wanted to sign the papers that would release them to her. It was a weird way of phrasing something, and it got stuck in Amy’s head all day, to the point where she asked Rosa about it.

“So, you think that ‘releasing’ an item is the same as ‘releasing’ a person?”

“Honestly, I don’t care, Santiago.” Rosa replied, straightening some papers. “But yeah. Technically they’re both detained by the NYPD, so.”

Amy mulled that over. “I guess you’re right. I never looked at it that way. God, isn’t grammar fun?”

Rosa rolled her eyes, called her a nerd and walked over to Gina’s desk to deliver the paperwork she had just finished writing. When Amy looked back at her desk, she found Jake staring at a wall, his eyes blank.

She wondered if she should ask him about what he was thinking, but before she could do anything, Holt called her into his office. She did so and closed the door behind her at his request.

“Please, close the blinds.” He ordered, and she closed them, feeling a bit anxious. Had she done something wrong? Was he going to chastise him? God, she couldn’t even begin to _think_ what it was like being chastised by her boss-

“Have a seat, Detective.” Amy sat down, her mind still spiralling. Was any of her paperwork subpar? No, that was ridiculous. She always did them perfectly, and-

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here, and asked for so much discretion.”

_Is he going to fire me? Oh my God, he’s going to fire me_. “Indeed I am, Sir.”

“Well, it’s quite simple. You see,” He crossed his hands and let his shoulders fall on top of his desk, and Amy swore she was going to lose her sanity over this conversation. “This is a matter of utmost secrecy, and I trust that you will keep this to yourself.”

_Oh? _Her expression must have betrayed her, because Holt leaned back on his chair, seemingly amused (was he amused? Amy still couldn’t read him).

“Well… what is it, Sir? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you, and another person of your choice, to go follow this man.” He opened a case file from the pile next to him, and opened it, showing a pretty bland white man that appeared to be in his thirties. “And I am emphasising here how discreet you much be while doing this.”

“May I ask why?” She said, picking the folder up and being slightly surprised at the fact that it only had two pieces of information: the photo she had already seen and a map.

“You may, but I’m not sure I can answer you.”

Amy’s gut told her something about this felt wrong. She ignored it, however, because she trusted her Captain. When was he wrong, ever since he started working at the Nine-Nine?

“Alright, Sir. I’ll take the job.”

“Who will accompany you? This is a two-man job, Detective, don’t forget that. I believe you trust everyone in this bullpen fully… well, mostly everyone.”

“Hitchcock and Scully.” Amy said, clarifying what he meant, and Holt’s nod confirmed it.

“Apart from those two, you can take anyone. Who will it be?”

Amy thought for a while, trying to think of the better person to work with. Rosa, Charles, Jake, Rosa, Charles, Jake, Rosa, Charles,

“Jake.” She said. “I’d like to work with Jake Peralta on this case.”

Holt seemed to be surprised (or disgusted? Amused? She really had to get better at reading his expressions), but said nothing, opting to just usher her out of his office with the advice to talk to Jake as soon as possible.

Amy took that advice to the letter, heading to his desk. Jake grinned and started making fun of her.

“Hey, were you making out with the Captain? You were in there for so lon–”

“I need to talk to you.” She interrupted, and his expression turned serious.

“I, uh… Sure, yeah.” He stumbled.

She hoped that the squad didn’t pay much attention to them: Rosa was filing some paperwork; Gina was on her phone as usual, shredding some important papers; Charles was focused on his computer screen, probably looking up some recipes with failed mould; Hitchcock and Scully were asleep and the Sarge’s desk was empty. It was perfect, they could go anywhere they wanted without being noticed.

“Come on, let’s go to the copier room.”

They walked the short distance to it, and Jake closed the door behind them, as if he knew what she was about to say. Amy looked out at the bullpen, checking to see if everyone was still distracted. They were, but as a measure of prevention, she closed the blinds anyway.

“Woah, Santiago, if you want to make out with me we can just go to my place–”

“Shut up and listen to me.” She handed him the nearly empty case file. “Holt assigned this to us.”

He opened it and frowned. “A picture and a map? I’m a good detective but I’m not _that _good. I can’t conjure evidence out of clean air like this is Harry Potter.”

“You actually can’t do that in Harry Potter, but that’s not the point.” She picked up the photo and pointed at him. “We have to follow this guy. I tried to ask Holt why, but he wouldn’t budge. I’m guessing he senses it’s something that might risk the lives of a lot of people, so he doesn’t want to take a chance of a lot of people knowing about it.”

“So, like a secret investigation.” His eyes had a spark to it she was familiar with. It was the same spark when he had gone undercover all that time ago. “This is just like Mission Impossible. The mission, should you choose to accept it…”

“Jake, this is serious.” 

“And I’m taking it seriously!” He looked offended, so she stopped pushing the matter. Didn’t stop her from sighing, though.

“Okay, look.” She picked up the map and unfolded it, putting it on top of the copier. A single red circle was on it. “My guess is we have to go here. By the looks of things, we’ll find him here and follow him from that spot to wherever he goes next.”

Jake nodded, and let his finger fall on the circle. “I’ve been there once. I think it’s an abandoned warehouse.”

“That is so cliché.” Amy shook her head.

“I know, right? It’s like a dream come true.”

Amy just looked at him. “You have weird dreams.”

“You probably dream of binders, so who has the weirdest dreams?”

She rolled her eyes, wondering if it was too late to change partners.

* * *

They dined at the precinct, watching all their colleagues go home to their lives. Holt looked at them as he left, nodding in understanding. Amy nodded back, and Jake did the same, too. The night shift was slowly filtering in, and Amy watched as they sat on their desks. She supposed it wasn’t _their _desks anymore, but it felt weird not thinking about them like that.

“Ready to explore an abandoned warehouse?” Jake asked, snapping Amy out of her daze.

“We’re not exploring it, Jake. We’re surveying it.”

He handwaved her argument. “It’s the same thing. Fancier word.”

“It’s not the same thing!” She started, but stopped halfway. She wasn’t in the mood to fight Jake. “Let’s just go. Watching the night shift people weirds me out.”

“It’s like an alternate dimension, isn’t it? I swear we’ve gone through the Twilight Zone.”

One of the Detectives slid and spilled coffee over a janitor at that time, causing an argument to erupt.

“This is the perfect distraction. Everyone knows that the night shift hates us.” Amy said.

Jake nodded, and they put the remainders of their food in the trash, walking towards the elevator as quietly as possible.

After they left the precinct, Jake insisted they went to his car, as it was better to drive there instead of taking a random cab and waiting out in the cold. Amy protested thoroughly, seeing as she thought his car was a death trap straight out of a Stephen King novel.

“It’s not that bad! It only breaks down once in a while.” Jake tried to convince her.

Amy was already convinced, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t going to argue more until they reached his car. “Once in a while is too much already, Jake! Come on, when was the last time you had it inspected.”

He counted with his fingers. “Two years?”

“Oh my God.”

They reached his car and got inside, still arguing over seemingly trivial details. Almost as a miracle, that neither Jake nor Amy noticed, the engine started on the first try, and they sped off towards the warehouse.

“Any plan when we get there?” Jake asked, after a moment of silence.

Amy pondered for a moment. Of course she had a plan, but she was sure he was going against her wishes anyway. “Should I even bother telling you what it is if you’re just going to not follow my lead anyway?”

“Hey! I’m a good secondary.”

“Tell that to Boyle. Or,” She looked at him with a smirk on her face. “Should we call the M.E. this time? Maybe do some roleplay?”

“It was _one time!” _He slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “And how the fuck did you find out?”

“Things spread in the precinct, what can I say.”

“It was Gina, wasn’t it?”

Amy chuckled. “Of course it was Gina, who else could it be?”

Jake joined in on the laugher, and soon they were just telling funny stories to each other, trying to distract themselves from the following hours of certain boredom that awaited them.

“Okay, but going back to the original topic.” Jake said, cleaning out the tears from the laughter. “What do you want to do when we get there?”

The streetlamps outside blurred by. “Stake out.” She said. “We stay put and watch for any movement. For Holt to ask for two people, it must mean that there’s only one entrance and exit, or at least that he knows of. If the place is quiet for at least an hour, we go inside for a quick survey of the place. If the guy goes in sooner, we follow him inside and try to get some intel that way.”

Jake nodded. “Seems reasonable.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you agreed with me.”

He smacked her on the arm. “Shut up, I’m reasonable!”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright partner, whatever you say.”

They stayed quiet for the rest of the drive, which wasn’t that long, since the warehouse was near them anyway. After reaching the place, Jake did a quick drive around the block, trying to look for any more possible entrances or exits. Surprisingly, Holt’s gut seemed to be right – there really was only was one door.

“Looks like Holt was right once again.” Jake noted.

Amy nodded, focused on her task. She tried to stay focused, but some random rummaging to her side distracted her and made her frown. She looked to the side, only to find Jake eating something out of a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“We’ve been through this already.” He said, propping a handful of nuts out of the bag. “I get snacky on stake outs.”

“You’re eating nuts again?” Amy should’ve expected something like this coming from him, but she somehow thought that it wasn’t going to happen.

“They’re delicious and nutritious.”

“Whatever you say, Jake.” She said, but it didn’t stop her from taking a few nuts from his bag and eating them.

* * *

An hour had passed, and no out of the ordinary movement was seen – people walking their dogs, couples passing by the waterfront, smokers blowing puffs of grey smoke into the air – and Amy was beginning to grow a bit impatient. She checked her watch every five minutes, hoping that more time would’ve passed.

Jake seemed to be awfully quiet too, but she didn’t dare look at him. He had stopped eating half an hour ago (she’d counted), so she just assumed that he was focused on the entrance of the warehouse, or on the movements of other people.

Drowsiness started taking a hold of her, so she slapped her face and opened the car door, hoping some of the cold bite of the air would wake her up. Amy was about to tell Jake that she was going to leave the car, turning around to look at him, only to see that he was, in fact, asleep, his head standing against the seat, leaning to one side. Deciding to let him sleep, she simply got out of the car, closing the door behind her.

The air wasn’t as cold as she expected, product of the late spring warmth, but she still shivered when she stepped outside. Putting the zipper of her jacket up to its maximum, she shoved her hands into her pockets and walked around, hoping to drag some of the sleepiness she was feeling with it.

That was when she noticed something.

A figure stood at the other side of the street, seemingly looking around for something. They looked in her direction, so she quickly thought of something to cover her tracks: she took out one of the cigarettes from the emergency pack she kept in her back pocket and started smoking it. The figure seemed to pay no mind to her after that, but she kept looking at them.

They passed from streetlamp to streetlamp, from light to dark, and Amy held her breath when she realised that they were heading towards the warehouse. It had to be the perp Holt was telling them about. Quickly opening the car door again, she shook Jake awake. He stood up straight in an instant, slamming his hand against the steering wheel in the process.

“Shit! What’s going on?” He said, a bit too loudly for her taste. “Why are you smoking?”

She didn’t answer him, simply pointing to the man that was near the warehouse door. “I’m pretty sure that’s our perp. Let’s go!”

Jake got out of the car quickly, and the man stepped inside the building as soon as he closed his door. He looked at her, and she nodded.

Silently, but with a fast pace, they walked over the short distance to the warehouse, making sure that no one was around to watch them. After reaching the door, they stood on either side of it and drew their guns out.

“Let’s always check each other’s backs. We don’t split for anything. Got it?” She ordered.

“Got it.” He replied.

They stepped inside the dark division.

Inside was a high ceiling, which must have been at least 35 feet tall, with steel beams supporting the structure. There wasn’t anything of note beside its tall interior, apart from the fact that there were so much junk spread throughout it. A curious thing that Amy noted was the fact that there wasn’t any graffiti, and the walls seemed to have been cleaned recently. She didn’t wonder why.

Across the length of the warehouse, she saw another door, which was half open. The man must’ve been inside that room, and Jake had the same realisation as her. She didn’t turn on her flashlight for the fear of being caught, simply moving forward slowly, Jake walking right beside her, splitting away from her only when the passage between the junk (seriously, there was _a lot_ of junk) didn’t allow them to stick together.

Amy didn’t even see the shards glistened in the dim light that came from outside and, as a result, she stepped on them, causing a loud cracking sound to spread throughout the whole warehouse. Without even thinking, she ducked behind a pile of things that were covered behind a black cloth. She looked to her side, to find Jake hiding behind a pile of wooden boxes.

“Who’s there?” A voice, which she assumed belonged to the man, asked. “I have a gun!”

_Fuck. _She thought. _He has a gun. Why do they always have to have guns?_

She held her gun next to her chest and closed her eyes, hearing the footsteps of the man as he cautiously made his way closer and closer to her. Before he could reach her, though, a notification sound propped up and he stopped. The man only stopped for a second, though, and then started sprinting. This made Amy open her eyes, only to find him already halfway out the exit.

She looked at Jake and he shrugged, as if saying “I don’t know why he did that, either”. Cautiously, she propped herself up from her hiding place, only to find the door that the man had gone through was closed.

“I think we’re in the clear.” Amy said, cleaning out her jeans.

“We should probably check out the back room.” Jake said.

“You can go ahead, I’ll stay here and check all this junk out.” She said, looking at the thing that was hiding behind. “I don’t think he was running because he saw us.” Amy added, before Jake could go to the room.

“Yeah, I don’t think that, too. The notification ding scared him.”

“Maybe his boss?”

Amy shook her head and brought a hand to it. “I don’t know. We don’t have enough information for this. Besides, we were ordered to follow, not to question.”

Jake rolled his eyes but decided not to pursue the matter further, heading towards the back of the warehouse.

That was when Amy heard a small, nearly unnoticeable beeping. It was constant, seemingly in intervals of one second each, almost as if counting something. At first, she didn’t know where it was coming from, but then she realised it was from straight in front of her. Almost dramatically, she uncovered the thing that she was hiding behind just a few minutes ago and saw something that would change her life forever.

Amy Santiago didn’t know how she was going to die, but she always hoped it was when she was old, surrounded by her children and grandchildren, her husband by her side. She didn’t think it would’ve been in the line of duty, but life really liked to take funny turns.

**00:05**

The beeping was a countdown clock, she realised too late. Five seconds until the device in front of her exploded. And she knew it was a bomb, she’d read about devices like this before. Amy was trained to act on her instincts and be as fast as possible, but she just froze. Five seconds wasn’t enough to run away from the blast, not when you were standing this close to the device.

**00:04**

Amy heard Jake yell her name, followed by some sprinting footsteps. Oh God, he was going to die here, too. She never knew how Jake wanted to die, but maybe he wanted the same thing as her. Or maybe he wouldn’t mind going down like this, a heroic sacrifice.

**00:03**

She thought about her family, about how she was never going to see them again.

**00:02**

She thought about all the things she had accomplished, and all the things she was never going to be able to do.

**00:01**

Jake tackled her to the ground, and she looked at him. When they landed, on the floor, Amy was holding on to him, clinging for dear life, even though that was about to vanish.

“Amy,” He started

“Jake.” She finished.

**00:00**

His eyes were the last thing she saw, before the flames engulfed them both.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I managed to update! Hope you guys enjoy this, because I'm having a lot of fun with the concept!

Amy Santiago woke up with the shrill sound of one of her alarms.

She woke up with a start, feeling hot all over, like she had been buried under a million sheets and forced to stay there for days.

She looked at her hands for a second. Hadn’t she just… died? What was happening?

Her alarm was still blaring, but she paid no mind to it. Her mind was still trying to rationalise what was happening, trying to make sense of her situation. Concluding that she had the most vivid dream in the history of mankind, she got out of bed. She couldn’t have_ died_, right? That didn’t make any sense.

Yeah, it was just a vivid dream caused by being asleep under her sheets, and her mind translated the heat into a weird dream where she blew up hugging Jake.

_Jake._

She finally turned off her alarm and picked up her phone, scrolling through her contacts quickly to find his number. She waited, hearing the phone ring three times before the line connected.

“Hello?” He said, his voice scratched, like he had just woken up.

“Hey. Are you okay?” She asked, feeling silly about dialling him up in the first place.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He paused. “Had a really weird dream, but besides that I’m good.”

“Really? What happened in that dream?”

Jake paused again. “I don’t really want to talk about it. Anyways, what do you want?”

“Anyway.” Amy corrected without thinking, and heard Jake puff on the other end of the line.

“If you called me to correct my grammar, please get a life, Santiago.”

Why _had_ she called him? She had already established it was a dream, so it didn’t make any sense to worry about him. Right?

_I’m losing it._ She thought.

“Yeah, sorry. I don’t know why I called you. Sorry for waking you up.”

“Oh, I was already up. But no problem.”

He hung up, and Amy was left staring at her phone, until the screen blacked out.

* * *

She arrived at the precinct only to find Jake nowhere in sight.

She frowned. Why was she expecting him to be at his desk? That didn’t make sense. Just like she thought it was May 25th, but it was, in fact, the 24th, which confused her even more. She was one day ahead of her calendar. Why was she thinking ahead?

Shaking her head in a vain attempt to stop thinking about the dream she’d had (_God, it was so vivid! I swear I can still feel myself crashing on the floor, looking at his eyes before…_), Amy sat down at her desk and booted up her computer. Right as she typed in her credentials, the Captain walked into the bullpen.

“Good morning, Sir.” She greeted.

“Good morning, Detective Santiago. Working on cases already?” He asked, the usual deadpan expression on his face.

“You know it, Sir!” Amy exclaimed, to try and cheer him up (was he down?).

He remained expressionless.

“Don’t burn yourself out, Santiago.” He said, before walking into his office.

After the door to his office closed, Amy sighed and let her head fall on her desk. She was so focused on feeling the cold metal on her head, she ignored the dinging of the elevator and the steps that made their way towards her.

“Tough night?” Jake’s voice made its way through his side of the desk.

Amy brought her head up, looking at him. His hair was glistening, like he had just taken a shower, and he was wearing a plaid shirt, with blue and white stripes.

“Didn’t you wear that yesterday?” She asked, ignoring his question altogether.

“I…” He stopped and looked down. “Considering I just showered and changed, no. I did not wear this yesterday.” Jake chuckled. “God, did you even sleep last night? You’re switching things around like crazy.”

Amy brought her hands to her face and dragged them down slowly. Was she going insane? The shirt he was wearing was exactly the same as the one he had worn in his dream. Knowing Jake, he’d probably worn it more than once, so it made sense that her subconscious would save that impression of him, but why was he wearing today? Of all days?

“You showered here?” She asked, feeling like she knew what he was going to reply.

“Yeah.” He cocked his head. “How’d you know?”

“Gut feeling.” She said, but stood up from her seat and made her way to the balcony next to the bullpen. She needed a smoke.

* * *

Halfway through the morning, the bullpen started smelling like mould, because one of Charles’ kitchen nightmares had “fertilized incorrectly”, according to him. Amy was about to set him on fire with his eyes, when Rosa made her way to her desk, calming her down and promising revenge on him.

Needless to say, Amy felt a wave of déjà vu when Rosa left her side, causing her to hyper focus on her paperwork and, before she knew it, it was 2PM and she still hadn’t eaten. Her stomach growled when she looked up from her desk, staring at the empty spot of her colleague (partner?).

Grabbing her lunch, she heated it up in the microwave in the break room (which was empty – not even Hitchcock and Scully were there) and ate alone. Again.

_Again? No, it was just a dream. _She forced herself to think of it as a dream. In fact, if it was a thing she had experienced, Gina had already–

“Charles, you _animal!_” She heard her yell.

Well, that was definitely new. What wasn’t new was the fact that she had thrown a stapler at his head. Amy got up, and stood on the doorway, hoping the feeling of déjà vu would not overwhelm her, and stared at the scene.

“The Boyles are having a family dinner and they’re making her go.” Jake appeared next to her, arms crossed, and informed her of the situation.

She waved her hands. “Yeah, I inferred that from the situation. Honestly, she’ll find any excuse to hurt Charles.”

“The poor guy.” He said, and squinted his eyes.

“What’s up?” She asked, while Gina threw a case file onto Charles’ head.

“I don’t know. It just feels like…”

Charles then slipped on a wet patch of the floor and crashed down on the floor, yelling “My buttholes!”, which caused a collective groan from the precinct.

“Sorry, I’m gonna go help him.” He said, and left to help Charles up off the floor.

Amy stared at the scene for a while, ignored all her gut feelings about something being off, and returned to the break room.

* * *

An old lady came up to Amy’s desk asking for some release papers for a lost item, which Amy found a bit odd, but didn’t question her about it. After everything was dealt with, she almost made her way to Rosa’s desk to talk about it, but decided against not to do it. Instead, she went to the briefing room, only to find Jake sprawled on the floor, a map of Brooklyn spread on both the whiteboards.

“Foles is hard to track, huh?” She asked.

He lifted his head to look at her, but soon returned it back to the floor, his eyes staring at the ceiling.

“He’s an actual ghost. I don’t know how to draw him out.”

“Any luck with CI’s?”

“I’d be an amateur detective if I hadn’t tried talking to them, at this point. They’re all too scared to talk.”

Amy tapped a red circle on the map. “So, he’s got power.”

Jake said a “hm” as a vague response, and promptly kicked her out of his “thinking space”, insisting that he just needed to think alone for a bit more time, that he didn’t need her help.

Amy rolled her eyes and sighed, since she wanted to steal one of those whiteboards to sketch a map of the arsonist she was pursuing, but she guessed that’d have to wait. Jake always got like this in cases, and it was annoying when he took resources from other people. At least he caught the perp, most of the time.

“Santiago, come in my office.” Holt ordered, from the door.

Her gut churned, but she made her way there and closed the door behind her.

“Close the blinds as well.” He said, and she did so.

He invited her to have a seat, which she took, and started explaining why he wanted her there.

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here, and asked for so much discretion.” Amy simply looked at him, so he took it as a sign to proceed. “Well, it’s quite simple. You see, this is a matter of utmost secrecy, and I trust that you will keep this to yourself.”

He was leaning back on his chair, staring at her straight in the eyes. Amy cocked her head to the side, secretly hoping he wouldn’t show her the photo she’d seen in her dream.

“Well… what do you want me to do, Sir?” She asked anyway.

“I want you, and another person of your choice, to go follow this man.”

Amy didn’t even stare at the photo slid across the desk, and the rest of his words slipped by her. When he gave her the case file, her ears went into focus again, and she heard him ask for a partner.

“I want to work with Detective Peralta.” She said.

Holt raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised at how fast she had answered him and at the choice.

“Very well. Then I suggest you talk with him, privately, as soon as you step out of this office.”

Amy nodded and excused herself out of there. However, instead of following his advice, she made her way to the evidence room, finding no one around.

She sighed and grabbed on to one of the metal bars of the shelves, taking in several deep breaths. What the hell was going on?

* * *

She ignores her instincts again, screaming at her that something was wrong, that maybe her dream wasn’t a dream, but going into that had some many terrifying ramifications that she decided that “vivid dream that seems super close to real life” was the only adequate label to mitigate what she was feeling.

She managed to drag herself out of the evidence room, only to find Jake back at his desk, eyes closed and hands on his forehead. Amy dragged him to the break room and told him what Holt had told her, showing him the small amount of evidence they had.

“About the map, I think I know what that place is.” Jake said, tapping his finger on the marked address.

“It’s an abandoned warehouse, right?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, I think so…” Jake said, but stopped himself. “Have you ever went there?”

“Gone, not went.” She corrected, before proceeding. “I drive by the area sometimes so I know it kind of well. It’s by the Hudson, and I like watching the river…”

She hoped he wouldn’t catch her lie, and he seemed to have bought it.

“You’re such a nerd. I bet you bring books with you to read by these riverside walks.”

She did, in the summer when it was hot, sitting on a bench under the shadow of a tree, hearing the wind blow the leaves away and the sound of the water below. Just not in that area. “No, I don’t.”

“Sounds like a lie, but okay.” He said, changing the subject. “What’s the plan? Stake the place out?”

Flashbacks to the dream played back in Amy’s head. Flames, broken glass, shoulders crashing on cement floors, one last desperate look.

“No.” She said, firmly. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you suggest we do, then?”

Amy thought for a while, before an idea came to her. “Let’s run this guy through face ID, see what we can find him. Check all the places he lived, all the places he worked at. By tonight, we should know more about him than he knows about himself.”

Jake grinned. “Sounds great to me. Just like Mission Impossible.”

“Oh, shut up and let’s get to work.” When he was about to sprint out of the room, Amy warned him. “Quietly! And with subtlety!”

“Right. Right.” He said, and changed his voice to a whisper. “Let’s go, secret mission!”

Amy rolled her eyes, but followed him out of the room anyway.

* * *

After a few hours, they only managed to find an address: his current place of residence, which Amy found incredibly suspicious. Why was that the only thing on the digital files? She wanted to drag Jake to the archives to find more dirt on the man (which was named Alex Nale), but he annoyed her into at least checking the place out before going to City Hall to ask for anything.

“It’s a nightmare, Amy. Everything is so slow.” He complained.

Amy rolled her eyes at that, telling him it was only slow if he wanted to, but didn’t argue more with him. Instead, they got in his car and drove to the only known address, which turned out to be an apartment building that wasn’t that far off the warehouse they were supposed to check.

She found it curious, of course, but chose not to pay any mind to it. When they reached the front door of the building, however, Jake received a call on his phone.

“Shit, it’s my mom. I have to pick this up.” He apologised.

Amy nodded. “It’s okay. I’ll go in and try to see if anyone’s around. There’s a fires escape there, so if he tries to run away through there, catch him off guard.”

Jake did a thumbs up and excused himself, while Amy rang a random floor (making sure to not ring the right one) and asked to be let in. After a bit of back and forth between the tenant, she managed to convince them that she was, in fact, part of the NYPD and they let her in.

Amy made her way to 10th floor through the stairs, refusing to take the elevator because of how cramped it looked. She shivered just thinking about how people rode it every day, not thinking about how the walls were just _glued _to them, not even giving them a chance to breathe.

_Come on, Amy, focus._ She slapped her cheek lightly and made her way to apartment D, knocking on the door.

“NYPD, open the door!” She yelled.

No one replied, so she banged on the door again and, this time, she heard some commotion on the other side.

“Son of a bitch.” She mumbled. “You’re not getting away from me.”

Amy picked up her gun from her waist and kicked the door down, closing her eyes momentarily as splinters shot in all directions. She looked at the moderately sized apartment, looking for any sign of human life, only to find the window to the fire escape open. Rolling her eyes (because _of course_ he was going to use the fire escape), she sprinted over and climbed onto the metal floor, looking up and down for anyone running.

She didn’t find anyone, though, which made her frown and turn back to look at the apartment, only to see the barrel of a gun staring straight at her.

Before she could even react, a shot echoed out and hit her straight in the chest. She stumbled back, clutching onto the bullet wound.

It wasn’t on her heart, she was aware, so she had a chance. She had a chance to survive this, if only Jake had called an ambulance already, she could still make it, she wasn’t dying here, no, this isn’t what was meant to happen.

But the man (Alex, she knew his name, it was Alex) was next to her already, and she already had her back on the railing. There was nowhere to go, and the blood kept pouring out her, a proverbial waterfall of life draining her of everything that made her what she was.

“Please.” She begged, weakly. “I won’t…” She coughed, and noticed with wide eyes that she had spit out blood. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“And you never will.” Alex said, and kicked her, hard.

She went above the railing, falling and falling, seemingly for such a long time. She saw the blood that kept streaming out of her wound, her hands that were turning white. Her vision turned foggy, and then absolute black came for her when she crashed onto the cement floor of New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap! That's one way to die, isn't it?
> 
> As always, any kind of feedback is appreciated, whether it's kudos or comments!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// drowning

Amy Santiago woke up with the shrill sound of one of her alarms.

She woke up with a scream, clutching her hands tightly against her chest, where the bullet wound was. Where it was? Where it should’ve been? She grabbed her head lightly, still feeling the ghost pains from having just crashed down on the floor with near terminal velocity. Had she just crashed and died? _Again?_

Amy thought she was losing her mind. This had to be it, something inside her had finally snapped and now her mind was stuck killing her for the last two days. That had to be the only explanation.

She didn’t _feel_ any different, though, besides the vivid memories of dying twice. She felt like herself still, besides a few aches that had slowly dulled, and now she didn’t even feel them anymore.

She got out of bed, shut off her alarm, and took in a deep breath.

_This is fine. _She thought. _All I have to do is go to work. Things will be normal._

When she got to the kitchen, after already being dressed, she stared at her calendar. There were crosses over most of the dates, but there was one that wasn’t filled with the black marker she’d bought and put on the fridge (it came with a magnet, so she fell in love with it immediately) – May 24th.

She brought her hands to her face and started sobbing.

* * *

Amy managed to compose herself enough to leave the house, but took so long to get to the precinct, she arrived one minute late. Apologising profusely to the Captain, she sat down at her desk and stared at the blinking cursor on the screen where she was supposed to put in her credentials.

She must’ve been staring at it for so long that Gina piped up and said something about how Amy had become so old-fashioned she didn’t need computers anymore. The bullpen laughed, and Amy simply said a vague “hm” in response.

She excused herself and made her way to the evidence room where she stared at files, biting her nails and craving a cigarette like there was no tomorrow. She knew what most of those files contained, so she thought about setting one on fire just to see what would happen. Maybe she’d die with the smoke and wake up in her bed, or maybe she’d die for good, ending up in the afterlife, if there even was one.

A knock was heard from the door, and she turned around to see Jake standing at the threshold.

“Hey.” He asked. His face showed genuine concern, and she couldn’t help but wonder what life must be like for him, not knowing what it must be like to die twice, both in awful ways.

“Hey.” She managed to say.

“You okay?” He walked a bit closer to her, scratching the back of his neck. “Everyone at the bullpen is worried.”

“I’m fi-” Her voice faltered, but she cleared her throat. “I’m fine, sorry. I just woke up kind of sick, and I think I’m still kind of out of it.”

“Well… maybe you should use one of your days off.” He got a bit closer. “You know, just a suggestion.”

Amy stared at him, up and down, before a question escaped from her lips. “Can I hug you?”

Jake’s eyes widened with surprise, but then he furrowed his brows. “What?”

She shook her head, putting a hand on her forehead. “Sorry… it’s been a tough couple of days. Just ignore what I said.”

“Sure.”

“Wow, that was fast.”

“No, no!” He gestured with his hands wildly. “I didn’t… I was talking about the…” Jake gulped and leaned against the metal bars of one of the shelves. “Hug. Yeah, you can hug me. I think I need one too, anyway.”

“Oh. Well… Here goes nothing then.”

Before she had time to think, she approached him and put her arms across his chest. His hands were in the air for a while, but slowly came to rest on her back as well. They stood like that for a long time, Amy shifting herself to put her face on his shoulder, while Jake seemed to follow in her lead and drop his head on her shoulder.

_This is nice. _Amy thought, thinking about how warm Jake was. _I could stay like this forever._ _Not thinking about anything else, just him and his warmth._

The silence was broken when Jake, who still hadn’t moved, decided to speak.

“Can I ask you something?”

Amy nodded against his chest, and he kept going. “These last few weeks have been a bit weird, haven’t they? I mean, you broke up with Teddy on accident, Sophia dumped me, and then everything else came in the middle.”

“Yeah, it’s been kind of a hell, hasn’t it?”

“Well, I was jus-”

He was interrupted when someone came inside the evidence room, and they separated quickly. Jake picked up a random file and started scrolling through it, while Amy looked at her watch. They waited until the random police officer (who had given them a weird look when he’d come inside the room) left the place, and she turned to look at him.

“What were you saying?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

Amy raised her eyebrows but didn’t push the matter further. She wasn’t in the state of mind to deal with Jake’s wild antics and, when he excused himself and left the room, she grabbed onto her wrists and traced patterns on them, trying to make sense of the situation.

* * *

Everyone was disgusted at the smell of Charles’ mould, but Amy was so indifferent to it that Rosa came up to her to ask how she was dealing with it so well, since even the drunk perps on the holding cell were having a bad time adjusting to it.

“Oh, I’m used to it.” She said, unconsciously.

“How are you used to it?” Rosa asked, and Amy nearly choked on the tea she was drinking.

“Oh uhm… Well you see…” Her mind searched for any kind of excuse. “My mom sometimes did things like these, and when they’d turn out badly the smell would be just the same.”

“So, your mom messed up dishes often?” She didn’t seem very convinced, and Amy had to admit that it wasn’t a good job.

“No, of course not!”

“Then make up your mind, Santiago.” Rosa walked away from her and went over to Boyle, probably to threaten him or something.

She sighed, only to find Jake looking at her, a grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, don’t even start.”

He raised his hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”

She threw a pack of post-its at him and he avoided them by ducking. “You were going to!”

“This is war, Santiago!” He threw his rubber band ball at her, and Amy expertly caught it with her hand, throwing it right back at him. It hit him square on the nose, and he groaned loudly in response.

“That hurt!” He complained, clutching onto his nose.

“Don’t mess with me, Peralta.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and focused her attention back to her computer, unbothered by Jake’s constant background noise.

At least it made the day feel like it was normal.

* * *

Lunchtime was smooth, with Amy already knowing that her lunch was going to be interrupted by Gina yelling at Charles. She chose to ignore the commotion this time around, so by the time she heard Charles yell about his “buttholes”, and everyone groaning in response, she had finished eating her lunch and was going back to her desk.

“You seem so unfazed today.” Terry seemed even more concerned than Jake. “Gina yelled at Charles and you didn’t even come to check the scene. Are you okay, Santiago?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Sarge.” She said, fake coughing a little. “I’m just a little sick.”

He looked at her up and down, but let her go back to work, advising her to drink some tea or take some cold medicine. She thanked him for his kind words and returned to her desk.

She was halfway through some paperwork, when Holt called her into his office. Amy looked at the floor and rolled her eyes, before stepping into his office and closing the door behind her, as well as turning the blinds down.

“You seem to be getting a bit ahead of yourself, Santiago.” Holt said.

“Oh, it was just a gut feeling that you wanted to speak in private, Sir.”

He looked at her, his eyes bearing a strange look. However, he proceeded with a speech Amy had heard twice now, and she pretended that she was hearing it attentively, even interrupting him at the exact same times she had on the first time she’d listened to it.

Amy wasn’t exactly ready to admit that she had factually, one hundred percent, died yet, but she recognised that it “happening” twice already was one hell of a coincidence. She was going to give it one more shot: if she died by tonight and woke back up in her bed, something was definitely up, something that she could no longer ignore. If she survived the day, she was going to write it off as some weird dream-within-a-dream experience, as she had read about them in a book about dream research.

She was hoping that this was reality because, if it wasn’t, what did that say about her mind? Who would conjure up such awful ways to die?

“Apart from those two, you can take anyone. Who will it be?” Holt’s question dragged her out of her daze, and she took a while to think about who she was going to choose. She had “died” (jury’s still out on the veracity of that statement) twice with Jake by her side, so it would be wise to change the parameters a bit, test out the dream. What would happen if she chose somebody else?

“I’d like to work with… Diaz, Sir.”

Holt leaned back on his chair. “Very well. I suggest you talk with her, privately, as soon as you step out of this office, then.”

Amy nodded, shook hands with her Captain and left his office. She scanned the area for Rosa, finding her near Jake’s desk. She made her way there and tapped her shoulder, ignoring Jake’s furrowed brows at her actions (why was he even doing that?).

“Can I talk to you?” She asked her.

“You’re already talking to me.” Rosa replied, earning a muffled laugh from Jake, which quickly vanished after Amy threw a death stare in his direction.

“Privately.” She insisted, and Rosa rolled her eyes, saying goodbye to Jake and following her to the supply closet.

“Kind of cramped in here, don’t you think?” Rosa asked.

Amy ignored her, not wasting any time regurgitating the information that Holt had given her (which she knew by heart now). She showed her the photo of the man and the map, and Rosa analysed them thoroughly.

“I think that place’s a warehouse.” Amy said, pointing to the place marked on the map. “I pass through that area sometimes, so I’m basically sure.”

Rosa nodded, and pointed to the man. “Any information on him?”

Yesterday’s events (was it considered yesterday when you were dreaming about/reliving the same day?) flashed through Amy’s mind, and she chose to lie. “No, nothing.”

“Maybe we should run a quick face ID, then.”

Amy thought about falling ten floors again and shook her head. “No. Holt’s orders were pretty clear. We stake him out and follow his every move.”

“Alright. You’re the leader here, I trust you.”

“Look, I just think-” Amy was taken aback by how easy Rosa had accepted her decision. “Sorry, I was expecting a bit more resistance.”

Rosa crossed her arms and stared at her. “I’m not Jake. I know when a plan seems right and I know how to follow orders. You’re the primary here, and I’m following your lead, got it?”

Amy didn’t know how to react, since her words were kind, but her tone was a bit aggressive. “Alright… then I suggest we leave after everyone else does, stick around until the night shift arrives, if we have to.”

Rosa nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

They waited until everyone left, making up work by their desks to pass the time. Surprisingly, Jake was the last to leave the bullpen, hesitating by the elevator, as if he was going to turn around and say something, before vanishing in its blue interior.

Rosa and Amy left twenty minutes later (as Amy had gotten into reorganizing her stack of files, and it took Rosa’s full strength to remove her from the piles she had made), heading to Rosa’s car and driving off to the warehouse marked on the map.

The trip was silent, the radio turned off, and Amy was already starting to regret choosing Rosa a bit. At least Charles talked a lot, filling the void between people, but Rosa seemed to enjoy the penetrating silence, and whenever Amy tried to start a conversation, she’d either shrug or throw a vague non-response in her direction.

When they reached their destination, Rosa circled the block to check for further entrances (Amy already knew there were none, but she wasn’t about to say that), and parked the car near the river, with a much better view of the warehouse door than the last time Amy had been there.

“So, now we wait.” Amy said.

“That’s kind of the point of a stake out.”

“Well, I know but…” Amy scratched her arm. “Usually people talk in these.”

“They do? I don’t think I’ve talked much in stake outs.”

_Of course she hasn’t. _“Of course! Me either, I was just making a joke!”

“Ha ha.” Rosa fake laughed. “Very funny.”

_It’s like trying to drink water from a dry well. _“I know, I went to a seminar about jokes, so I’m basically an expert.”

Rosa laughed for real this time, and Amy joined her, realising how ridiculous it must’ve sounded. After that, the conversation didn’t pick up that often, but they indulged each other in some fun facts (Amy got to know that Rosa did ballet, and didn’t know if it impressed her or scared her), and never saw a car that was driving fast through the streets.

They only noticed it when its headlights turned in their direction, blinding them momentarily. Amy covered her eyes, looked at Rosa, and realised something.

“Shit! Start the car!”

“Huh?” Rosa looked at Amy and back at the headlights.

“Rosa, that car’s coming straight at us!”

Rosa looked back at the headlights, but before she could even start the ignition, the car hit them straight on, projecting the vehicle into the Hudson. Amy collided with her head on the dashboard, and immediately fainted.

* * *

When she came to, the water was already to her knees. She blinked, and then brought her hands to her forehead, wincing when pain flared up in that spot. She pressed the lights of the car, sighing thankfully when they turned on. Shaking her head and ignoring the pain, she looked to her side, only to see Rosa passed out on top of the steering wheel.

“Rosa.” She mumbled, shaking her. “Come on, wake up.”

Amy tried moving, only for her feet to slosh around in the water that was slowly rising. She thanked whoever it was that none of the windows were broken in the crash, otherwise they’d both have drowned by that point. She looked out the window, only to see darkness envelop them, and the car seemed to not be moving.

There were good news and bad news, it seemed: the good news was that the car was mostly intact, and the water seemed to be slow in its ascent, so they had a chance to get back to shore.

The bad news was that they were stuck in the bottom of the Hudson.

Amy slapped Rosa’s face several times, but on the ninth slap and still with no response, she gave up, thinking that she could just carry Rosa out of the car by herself. She tried her luck with the seatbelt, but it was stuck in place, and she couldn’t take it off.

The water was by her hips now, and she opened the glovebox in front of her in the hopes of finding anything to cut the belt with. There was a lot of sewing equipment in there (which Amy found odd, but didn’t question), but she managed to find a pair of scissors, which turned out to be sharp enough to cut the seatbelt with enough patience.

Amy did that to both her and Rosa, and by the time she was finished, the water was up to her chest. She didn’t have a lot of time, and there only seemed to be one way out of the car: to shoot the window and swim out of it into the surface.

Amy struggled to get her gun out of it strap because of the water and hoped that the fact that it was wet wouldn’t allow her to shoot. She pointed it right at the centre of the windshield, and pulled the trigger, only to hear a weak click.

That’s when she did the thing she was never, _ever, _supposed to do. She started to panic.

Amy pressed the trigger a few times more, shook the gun to get the water out and tried it again, only to hear the faint clicks again and again. She checked to see if the magazine had any bullets, only to realise that her gun wasn’t loaded. Why wasn’t it loaded? She didn’t dwell on it, opting instead to blindly look for Rosa’s gun in the cold, dark water.

The lights were starting to flicker, and right as she grabbed onto the hilt of her gun, they went out completely.

Now in the complete dark, with the water up to nearly her neck, Amy managed to bring the gun up and blindly pointed it to the windshield of the car, pressing the trigger. A gunshot echoed out, and Amy yelled in happiness.

They were getting out of this. Alive.

More water came pouring in, and Amy shot again and again until the clip was empty, and she was sure that the glass was broken. Now, with the water up to her forehead, forcing her to crane hers and Rosa’s face up, she grabbed her and took in a deep breath, before diving into the water.

She struggled to get both out of the car, especially since Rosa was in the driver’s seat, but soon managed to swim out of there, hissing when she brushed against the broken glass, no doubt leaving cuts. Amy swam up and up, dragging Rosa behind her, holding on to her by her hips.

The pressure was surely going to destroy her ears, and she didn’t know if they were going to be able to hear properly after this, but it didn’t matter. They were close to the surface, she could see the lights of the city turning brighter and brighter as she swam.

But then, the worst happened.

Amy’s grip on Rosa slipped.

And she started going down.

_No, no, no, no nononononono_.

She went back down for her even though her lungs were screaming for air, but she didn’t care. It was either both of them or neither of them.

She swam down, and managed to grab onto Rosa’s hand, but soon realised she didn’t have enough strength to pull her above. She kept pulling on her hand, but it kept slipping away from her, forcing Amy to dive deeper and deeper for Rosa.

Soon, she was at her limit, not even able to swim up again. Amy looked above, at the city, its shining lights glowing faintly under the water, and thought that it looked beautiful.

She swore she heard someone yell for her, before her lungs collapsed as she sucked in water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me your feedback! I love to hear you guys' thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's a bit smaller than the rest, sorry about that!

Amy Santiago woke up with the shrill sound of one of her alarms.

She stood up straight and heaved, grabbing onto her throat as if it would give her more air, even though she was already breathing. After a few minutes of deep, scratchy breaths, and clinging to her sheets like her life depended on it, she managed to calm down, her brain finally convinced she wasn’t drowning in the bottom of the Hudson.

Wiping the tears from her eyes (that were there due to the heavy effort of just trying to breathe normally), Amy put her legs close to her chest and hugged them, resting her head on her knees.

Okay so, this was a thing now. She was reliving the same day again and again, “resetting” whenever she died. Amy was trapped in a loop, with no idea how to get out, until a worse thought crept into her mind.

_Maybe I’m not supposed to get out of this. Maybe this is punishment for everything bad I’ve done. _She thought, clutching onto her legs harder. _Is this what hell is like?_

Another terrifying thought jumped out, and she could only think about Rosa. Rosa, who she had let down, by letting her drown in the dark, cold and abyssal waters of the river. She let her drown and, in return, she herself had suffered the consequences.

Quickly looking for her friend’s contact, she dialled her number and waited, holding her phone like it was her life (though that didn’t seem to be of much value, at that point). The line connected after only two rings, but the time between them seemed like the longest period in Amy’s life.

“What’s up?” Rosa said.

Amy was so happy to hear her voice, she just started crying from relief.

“Oh, thank God.” She said, in between sobs.

“You okay?” Rosa asked, a tone of slight concern in her voice.

“Yeah I’m fine! Just…” Amy felt the tears coming down again and covered her mouth. “Just… happy to hear your voice.”

“Alright weirdo.” Rosa seemed to wait until she calmed down, hearing only Amy’s sobs and gasps for breaths. After Amy managed to calm down, Rosa cut straight to the chase. “Why are you crying?”

“It’s… complicated. I don’t really have time to explain it now.”

A pause came from the other end of the line. “Okay, sure. But tomorrow you’re telling me everything.”

“I can try and tell you at the precinct today…” Amy sniffled again.

“No, you’re taking today off.” She ordered. Amy was slightly taken aback by how much she cared. “Whatever happened, it struck you hard, so I’m telling the Captain that you called me and you were really sick.”

“I…” Amy struggled to find a good response, but thought of one that would be perfect for her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” It seemed like Rosa was about to hang up, but she added something. “One more thing, you tell anyone about this, I will set your house on fire.”

Amy managed to crack a smile at that.

* * *

After getting dressed, Amy stared at the calendar that was stuck to her fridge for the fourth time, trying to will the date to move forward. Maybe all she had to do was survive 24 hours. Maybe if she reached the next day, everything would be fine. She just had to not move for a full day, not do a single thing.

The thought was going to drive her wild. She had to do _something._ She couldn’t just ignore her situation.

So, Amy set to work. She pulled out one of her best binders, her best colour coded separators and started tracing everything from the beginning.

She didn’t know the catalyst of her situation, but she guessed it had something to do with dying in the warehouse the first time, getting blown up by the bomb. Amy quickly drafted several theories, scratching the ones that sounded the dumbest (Precinct is stuck in a time loop and only she could feel it), the most ridiculous (she was under the effect of a very strange drug) or overall too simple.

By the end, her pencil half chewed, she had three theories to base herself off on:

  1. _You’re in hell;_
  2. _The bomb set off the time loop, for some reason;_
  3. _Someone/Something else is interfering with time._

She admitted that the last one sounded a bit farfetched, but she wasn’t about to exclude that some Lovecraftian-type God was messing with her. Hell, it could be the entire Universe fucking with her, and she’d be none the wiser. Still, most Lovecraft protagonists either died, got deformed or went insane, so…

Amy tried not to think too much about option 3.

It was mid afternoon when she was over with everything, snacks surrounding her for energy (she didn’t eat lunch). She headed for the kitchen and turned her stove on, putting a kettle on it, hoping to drink some tea. She stretched, putting her arms all the way up, and heard something in her back pop.

Sighing with relief, Amy picked up a box of matches from the counter and struggled to light one up. When she finally managed to do so, the flame of the match triggered an explosion in her kitchen, killing her instantly.

* * *

Amy woke up with the sound of one of her alarms and stood up straight in a second. She still felt a bit of the heat from the explosion, reminding her that she had, in fact, just died.

Groaning, she turned off her alarm and got out of bed.

_Great. I’ve got a gas leak and I didn’t even know it. _Amy thought, setting an alarm on her phone to call the gas company on her phone, to have it fixed.

She sighed, and quickly got through her morning routine. After it, she wrote on a piece of paper “Don’t use! You’ll die again :)” before setting it atop her stove. Next, Amy called in sick for work, and set out to work on her theories again. Quickly writing on three pieces of paper about what might be happening to her, she tacked them on a magnet board she owned (and had to scavenge for in her storage closet), and focused her attention on theory number 2.

Since it was the one she could actually work on (considering that the other two were based on pure speculation), Amy wrote down all the information she had about the case.

_Suspect(s):_

_ Alex Nales _

_Age: ?_

_Gender: M_

_Race: Caucasian_

_Suspected for: Making bombs? Terrorist organization?_

She kept at her list and, after pulling up a small line of thread from her closet (she had it at her mother’s insistence, despite not sewing and not wanting to sew), she literally connected her theory with the man that had killed at least three times now. She tried for half an hour to come up with more information for him, but decided that, without the precinct’s database, it was a useless effort.

Sighing with resignation, she headed out her apartment and started going down the stairs. However, she tripped and fell along the stairwell, cracking her neck in the process.

* * *

That’s how her next six loops went. She’d get up with the pain of her death still lingering in her body, write up the list of possibilities and tried to get more work done on the case, always coming to dead ends.

Of the six days, she died three times (in a row) by falling from the stairs, which prompted her to never use them again and start using the elevator. The remaining three were, in order, electrocution (she accidentally touched the inside of her toaster while grabbing the food), allergies (three dogs piled onto her and she didn’t have an EpiPen) and, finally, getting hit by a car.

Needless to say, she never reached the precinct, which made her incredibly frustrated. Whenever she tried to get more information on this mysterious Alex Nales, something seemed to cross her path and killed her, meaning she never got to reach the database.

After waking up from dying in the car crash, Amy decided to finally be a little bit smart about it. Maybe she could just ask on her colleagues to drop off evidence at her place, all sneaky-like. She did the usual call-in sick to work, and set to work on putting the magnet board as she usual did, and then scrolled through her contacts, wondering who to call.

_Charles? _She shook her head: he was probably going to be busy with the whole mould situation at the precinct.

_Rosa? _No, she was working on a case from what she remembered.

_Terry? _Bothering the Sarge seemed to be kind of a last resort situation, and she didn’t feel like she was there yet.

That meant she had only one option left. Amy sighed (she had been doing that a lot over the last couple of loops) and dialled the one person she didn’t feel like dialling.

“Hello?” Jake Peralta answered her call.

“Hey. Look, I need to ask you for a favour…” Amy started.

“Usually, people say good morning first before asking me for anything, but I’ll let this slide.”

She rolled her eyes. “I hate you.”

She heard him chuckle on the other end of the line. “I’m just messing around, Santiago. What do you want?”

“Well, you know how I called in sick this morning?”

“Yeah, I was shocked to wake up and not find you here.”

“Yeah, I know. But – and don’t you dare mock me on this, I will hang up on you – that may have been a lie.”

Jake gasped loudly. “Amy Santiago! Have you no shame?”

Amy groaned and shut off the call. A few seconds later, Jake was calling her.

“Okay, message received.” He said, as soon as she picked up.

“Good. Now look, find all you can about a guy called Alex Nales, and bring it to my apartment. You still remember where I live, right?”

“Thanksgiving 2014 is kind of hard to forget.”

“Jake, I swear to God.”

She heard him shuffle with his phone. “Alright what was the guy called? Alex Nales?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly right.” She replied, surprised at how quickly he memorised the name.

“Can I ask for what it’s for?”

Amy hesitated for a second. What could she even say?

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Title of your sex tape.” He said, and hung up.

* * *

After an hour of waiting, Amy grew impatient. It was just printing a sheet of paper that barely had information on it, so she wondered what would make Jake take so long. She was about call him for some answers, when her doorbell rang.

“Thank God.” She mumbled, got up from her couch and unlocked the entrance door.

A few more minutes passed before he knocked on her front door, and Amy quickly realised that the wall in front of the door looked insane.

“Uh, just a second!” She said, and looked around for any place to put all her information, but there was no place to hide it in.

_Shit. _She thought. _Guess I’ll just have to open the door a crack._

Amy made her way to the door and opened it just a bit, enough to see Jake’s face.

“Hey!” He brought up a yellow case file. “Got what you need.”

“What took you so long?”

“Traffic.” He said, way too quickly. “You know how New York is.”

“Sure…” Amy furrowed her brows, but decided not to press him. “Well, if you could just hand me that file…”

“You’re not even gonna let me in?” He cocked his head to the side, trying to get a peak inside her apartment. Amy closed the door even more, trying to block his attempts.

“Just give me the file, Jake.”

“Come on… let me in for a cup of coffee.”

“No!” Amy grew restless. “Why are you so insistent on coming inside?”

“Because you’re hiding something and I wanna see it.”

Amy blinked, and he grinned at her.

“Oh, your face! Now I _have _to see what you have in there.”

Jake grabbed the door and pushed it away from Amy, who wasn’t holding on to it with enough strength. She stumbled forward, and he took the chance to slide inside her apartment, despite Amy giving a strangled scream for him to not do it.

“Come on, Santiago, what could be so bad about your place that-”

Amy closed the front door behind her and found him stuck staring at her wall, her theories in big black letters stuck on the magnet board, as well as piles of papers and a map of Brooklyn with several locations marked on them. It seemed like the work of a madman, and he was probably never going to look at her the same way again, which made her feel a bit weird, for some reason.

Well, at least she could try talking to him after she died. It’s not like he’d remember it, anyway.

That’s what she thought, until he uttered a few words that made her reality crack.

“You’re reliving the same day, too?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it, and apologies for any typos. I did this at nearly 4AM but i was on a roll so i couldn't stop.
> 
> as usual, tell me all your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is kind of short, but i'll compensate! Promise.

“You’re reliving the same day, too?”

Amy’s mind stopped for a second, then went into overdrive.

“What… What do you mean?” Was Jake really reliving the same day over and over again? Was he just messing with her? God, if he was messing with her and this was a cruel prank, she was going to kill him.

She was bound to escape the murder, too, since she could just die and reset the whole situation.

Jake was looking at her, no longer giving her a smile. “Don’t try to act like you know what’s not happening. You know, I had a suspicion that something was up with you, since you were the only one not to follow a routine…”

“Sorry?”

Jake shook his head. “Rosa, Holt, Terry, Charles, Gina. Everyone acted the same at the precinct except _you_. You were always different.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” She crossed her arms. Amy was going to get to the bottom of this, whether it was a lie or not.

“What is that supposed to be, then? Like, right here.” He picked up one of the papers that was on the board, reading it. “ ‘Death number 2 – got shot in the chest and fell 10 stories.’ I was _there.” _He threw the paper on the floor, and pointed at himself. His voice betrayed him and faltered, and he sounded desperate. “I remember hearing a gunshot and going up to the fire escape, only to see you fall and then– ”

Jake stopped himself, but Amy suddenly formed a theory on her mind. “Then what?”

“Then… I got hit with an air conditioner unit on the head and _died_.”

“Fuck.” She said, grabbing onto her hair. “Shit.”

“What? What are you thinking?”

“I… I don’t know yet. Like…” She went over to her board and pointed towards death number 3 – the one where she and Rosa drowned in the bottom of the Hudson. That death still made her shiver. “Did you die on the third repeat?”

“I die on every repeat, Amy. It’s the only way for the day to start again.”

“Okay then, _when _did you die?”

“Well, this is kind of embarrassing but…” He scratched his neck. “After Holt gave you the secret mission and you picked Rosa, I was a bit worried. I thought about telling you there was a bomb in the warehouse, but that would make me look an insane person, so I didn’t do it.” He sat down on the couch, not looking at her. “So, after feeling guilty for hours, I decided to say ‘fuck it’ and went down to harbour, only to find that you and Rosa were nowhere to be found. I roamed around for a while, when I found these weird skid marks that led straight into the river. I yelled for both of you, but then someone shot me in the back, and I woke up in the precinct again.”

Amy felt like she was having war flashbacks, and sat down on the other couch. “Yeah. Someone…” Amy took in a deep breath. “Someone crashed into our car and we were sent straight hurdling towards the river. Rosa’s car sank to the bottom of the Hudson and I tried getting us out but…”

The implication was there, and Jake looked at her, sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

Silence filled the room for a while, a silence Amy couldn’t take for long. She kept trying to think of ways to introduce her theory instead of seeing his face, and how he seemed to have reached for her hand to comfort her but decided against it at the last second. Thinking about that would wreck her.

“Okay, so about my theory.” She started, as the worst segway possible.

He didn’t seem to mind, standing up straight. “Yeah?”

“I think we’re dying at the same time. We died at the same times three times in a row, so the next eight shouldn’t be hard to track, especially since…” Amy hesitated. “Since they were sooner than normal.”

_I’m speaking as if dying is normal. _She thought, nearly missing Jake’s explanation.

“Well, after the harbour I woke up back at the precinct, and did the usual work there. Rosa came around and told the Captain that you weren’t coming around because you felt sick, which I found a bit odd, but ignored it.” He paused, waiting for a reply.

“Yeah, I called her and started sobbing.” Amy said, trying not to think about how much relief she had felt. “It wasn’t nice. Go on.”

“Okay…” He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t press her. “Well, in the afternoon, I decided to take the stairs down to the ground floor, but I tripped and probably cracked my neck somewhere while I was going down.”

“Well, I blew up in the kitchen.” Jake opened his mouth, and Amy raised a finger from the other hand. “Before you say anything, I had a gas leak I was unaware of and lit up a match.”

“That’s kind of funny. But let me tell you about my other deaths.” He raised his hand up, a closed fist. “Bee attack after I left my house.” He raised one finger.

“Fell down the stairs.” She replied, raising a finger of her own.

“An electric cable went loose, and I happened to step on some deadly water.” He raised another finger.

“Fell down the stairs again.” She raised another one of her fingers.

He leaned back on the couch. “Alright. Well, next time I accidentally choked on a nut.”

“Sounds like karma to me.” She said, earning an upset look from Jake. Amy rolled her eyes. “Fell down the stairs.”

“_Again?”_

“I don’t want to talk about it. I use the elevator now.”

“Harsh. Fell on a sewer grate and I’m pretty sure I broke all my bones.”

“Gross. Fell down the stairs one last time.”

“Jesus, you’re probably traumatized. My next one was falling off the balcony at work.”

“How do you even manage that? The railing is brick and really tall.” She asked. “Next was getting electrocuted by a toaster.”

“Ouch. And well, I was getting some fresh air from Charles’ mould smell and I sat on the railing. Someone opened the door and I got scared and fell backwards.” He scratched the back of his head. “Not my finest moment.”

Amy chuckled, despite the situation. “Go on.”

“On the next loop, a beat cop’s gun set off, somehow, and the bullet hit me straight in the chest.”

“Ouch. Dogs piled up on me and I had a deadly allergy attack.”

“Sounds like a fluffy nightmare.” She stared at him, and he lifted his eight and last finger up. “Tripped on a loose block and I’m pretty sure my head rammed straight into a metal pole.”

Amy was trying not to picture it. “That’s scarring. I got into a car crash.”

“Fun.” Jake said.

“Well, it’s better to know I’m not the only one dying over and over again.”

“And we’re dying at the same time, too.”

Another quiet moment passed between them, but it was soft and inviting, like the flames of a comfortable fireplace in the middle of winter. It was like they understood each other.

Amy was the one that broke the silence, noting how odd it was that their last few deaths had all been accidents and not provoked by anyone else. Jake agreed, and got up, helping her organize her wall with all the new information she had.

* * *

Half an hour later, Jake had to excuse himself to the precinct, since he had kind of snuck out of the place to give her something he wasn’t supposed to give. She thanked him for all his help and told him to call her later.

“Oh, and use the elevator!” She yelled from her front door.

He gave her a thumbs up and disappeared on the corner of the hallway.

Amy shut the door behind her, slowly falling to the floor, her mind trying to process what was happening.

Okay so, she wasn’t alone in this. That was a comfort to know. And Jake being the only one that seemed to experience the time loop was a thing that added to her second theory:

  1. _ The bomb set off the time loop, for some reason;_

Jake was there with her when it set off, so she was almost sure this had something to do with the case that Holt had given her. Alex Nales was at the centre of it all, it seemed, so she got up, took off all the papers from her board and stuck his photo straight in the middle.

Amy smiled. It was time to build a connection grid.

She went to the kitchen do a cup of tea, but slipped on the floor and smashed her head against the tiled floor.

* * *

Immediately after waking up, she called Jake. After he picked up, she didn’t even say hello.

“How?”

He understood her instantly. “Car crash! Honestly, the dude came out of nowhere.”

“Okay, so this confirms it. We _are _dying at the same time.”

“Yeah, guess so.” He paused. “Are you coming to work today?”

She looked at her window, watching the usual street. Amy didn’t know if she could reach her workplace anymore, but really what was there to lose?

“Yeah, I’m gonna try.” She finally replied.

“Try not to die on the way over.” He said, but it sounded more like a joke than advice.

“Try not to drown in the shower.” She quipped back.

She heard him chuckle on the other end of the line, and hung up.

She was going to figure this out.

No.

They were going to figure this out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your thoughts are, as usual, appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long hiatus! I've been incredibly busy with life! I'll still be busy so don't expect any regular updates from now on. I'll try to finish the fic by the end of the year, but no promises!

Amy somehow managed to reach the precinct intact, and Jake congratulated her on it. She waved him off, pulling up a chair next to his desk.

“Okay, first of all.” She grimaced. “Take a shower.”

“May I remind you that I always wake up here? In the precinct? With a sore neck?”

“That’s not my fault, Peralta.” He opened his mouth, and she lifted a finger to shut him up. Jake closed it, looking at her intently. “Okay, so, I have a theory.”

“I read your whiteboard, you know. And we talked about it, kind of.”

“Yeah, I know we did, but let’s pretend we didn’t. I just… I kind of need to talk about this.”

Jake leaned back on his chair, and crossed his arms. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

Amy took a deep breath and explained it all to him. He surprised her in the sense that he barely interrupted her, but she wasn’t sure if it was from overall exhaustion (he did seem to nod off a couple times), or just that he already knew what she was talking about.

After she finished, he mostly agreed with her on the warehouse-bomb-set-this-whole-thing-off theory (his words, not hers), emphasising how important Alex Nales seemed to be.

“I can’t get anything on the guy.” He shook his head and looked at her. “He’s a ghost. There’s nothing on the database, and I…” Jake stopped himself.

“You what?” She pressed him.

“I don’t…” He avoided her stare, looking at the ceiling. “God, I don’t want to go to his apartment, okay? I know it’s next logical step but…”

Amy bit her nails. Of course Jake was hesitant to go there, even if she was about to suggest that they do that. Both had died there, in a way that wasn’t pleasing at all. Falling 10 stories and getting shot in the chest wasn’t fun, and getting hit an air conditioner unit in the head probably wasn’t much better.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She took the first step and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. “We don’t have to go there right now. Or at all, if we find other solutions.”

Jake managed to look back at her. He smiled, a tiny smile that meant he appreciated what she was doing and, in response, he squeezed her hand back.

Their moment was interrupted when the elevator dinged, and they separated with a jump. Captain Holt greeted them, seemingly eyeing them with suspicion (Amy _still _couldn’t tell, though), and stepped into his office.

“We’ll pick this back up later. You should probably shower, though.” She said, gesturing at his overall composure.

“I’m getting _way _too comfortable in the precinct showers, let me tell you.”

Amy grimaced as he walked away chuckling.

-

The rest of the morning was the usual affair, and Amy almost missed the smell of Charles’ mould invading the bullpen. When she saw him pull out the container with whatever he was doing in there (honestly, what _was_ he doing in there?) and then saw everyone’s faces of disgust, she sighed and headed towards the balcony.

Outside, she stared at the city line, buildings that dotted New York. Amy heard the door open behind her but didn’t look back. She already knew who it was.

“It’s really pretty, isn’t it?” Jake said, next to her.

“It really is.” She replied.

They stood there, staring as the lazy morning sun shone its bright May light above them and, for the first time ever since this whole thing had started (well, since she realised it was happening), Amy thought about Pandora’s Box.

It released all of the evil of the world when opened, but something remained inside. Something always remained inside, which she had always denied herself.

Hope.

“Are you ready to go back inside?” Jake asked, after a few minutes.

Amy looked at him for the first time. He was looking at her, expectant. Hopeful.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

-

After Holt talked to Amy about stalking Alex Nales, Amy pushed Jake aside and took him to the break room.

“You chose me as the partner?” He asked.

“Well, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn’t have dragged you out here, right?”

“Will you always pick me?”

Amy thought about it for a long while. “Well, it depends on how much we progress. Getting a fresh perspective is always important, though I don’t know how anyone could help us get out of this insane situation.”

“We’re detectives, aren’t we?” He put one foot on top of a chair and pointed in front of him, in a sort of heroic pose. “Let us detect!”

She brought her hands to her face and shook her head, but chuckled a bit. “Alright, Jake, enough of that. What do you suggest we do?”

He sat down on the chair he had been perched on, and Amy moved to sit in front of him. “I think we should investigate Alex Nales’ place.”

If Amy had a drink, she’d spit it out. “_What? _I thought that was last resort scenario!”

“Aren’t we on out last resort? We’ve died like, a million times –”

“Twelve.”

“Whatever.” He handwaved her correction. “And we’re still no closer to getting closer to what’s causing this. I don’t want to go there, but it’s the only thing that makes sense right now.”

Amy’s brain lit up, and she had an idea. “Wait.”

“What is it this time?”

“We… We know his routine!” She exclaimed, standing up. “He’s going to go to the warehouse at night and when he’s out there…”

Jake got up as well and completed her thoughts. “We break into his apartment and check what’s inside!”

“Yes! Oh my god, Jake!” She grabbed onto his shoulders and jumped up and down like an excited child. “We might be getting somewhere!”

Jake grabbed onto her shoulders as well and jumped with her. Amy felt happy, because they were making some progress and, even if the search lead to nothing, it was something they could scratch out of the list.

“Are you guys okay?” Gina asked, stepping into the break room.

Amy coughed and backed away from Jake suddenly (the second time that day) and replied, with a bit of a voice crack, that everything was fine. Jake tried to keep up the illusion, but it was clear that Gina wasn’t buying it.

“Alright, weirdos. Whatever you guys are hiding I’ll find out anyway, so I guess it’s just a matter of time until I add this to the blackmail folder.”

“You have a blackmail folder?” Amy asked.

Gina paused mid step, before hurrying out of the room.

“She has a blackmail folder?” Amy turned towards Jake, who just looked at her and shrugged.

-

They stayed in the precinct until everyone left, Amy killing time by filing paperwork she had done a million times before, and Jake by playing something on his computer (she was pretty sure he was playing solitaire, since the last time she stopped by his desk the tab was open on his computer). Before the Captain left, however, he turned towards them and gave a solemn nod, one which Amy returned.

How many times had she seen that nod? What did the Captain know? After Holt left, she stood up and dragged Jake into the evidence room, ignoring his protests about how he was going to win the game this time.

“We completely ignored the obvious solution.”

Jake rubbed his arm, the place where she had violently grabbed him. “Talking to Ray?”

“Ray?” She asked.

“Yeah, I was trying something, ignore it.” Amy rolled her eyes waiting for him to move on. “Well, I thought about talking to Holt, but he seemed so adamant on giving you little to no information. He’s probably scared of whatever Alex Nales is planning, and trying to pry something out of him is like…” He ran out of words.

“Like trying to open a vacuum chamber?” Amy proposed.

“Yeah sure, it’s like trying to open…” He gestured vaguely towards her. “Whatever that is.”

Amy took in a deep breath. She knew, deep down, he was right, but over the course of the day, she had started to feel more and more apprehensive over the break in. What if there was a trap and they both died? What if, in this loop, the man would never leave his house? All the ways that could go wrong swam in her head, and she almost felt like she was drowning.

Well, not literally. That had already happened.

Somehow, Jake must’ve read the worry on her face because, before she knew it, he was grabbing her hands.

“Hey.” She looked at him. His eyes were soft, and she almost wanted to dive in them. “We’re going to get through this. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes.” She echoed.

_That means ‘no matter how many times we die’._

“Alright.” She released her hands from him and rubbed them slightly on her pants. “Let’s get this son of a bitch.”

Jake nodded, his smile replaced by a fierce look. They walked out of the bullpen side by side, as the people from the night shift made their way inside. As the elevator doors closed, Amy stared at their reflection on the metal.

The blurry image could only show so much, but she saw how they both looked – and they looked like shit. She wasn’t going to mince words: her face seemed to be sunk in, big dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was a mess, dark and wild against her face, seemingly glued to her forehead in places. Jake didn’t look much better, the same tired look as hers plastered on his face.

Why had no one said anything to them? They must’ve looked like this most of the day, yet not a word was said.

“Tell me something.” She turned towards Jake. He looked at her, instead of playing with his shirt. “How do I look? Be honest.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a ding.

“You look great.”

_Now that’s a lie._

“Thanks.” They stepped out of the elevator, and walked to his car in silence, side by side. She almost wanted to reach for his hand.

Only after sitting down, did she manage to speak again. “You look great, too.”

He grinned. “Don’t get flirty with me, Santiago!”

She rolled her eyes and punched his arm playfully. He yelped exaggeratedly, but laughed and started his car. She laughed along with him, and soon their appearance left her mind.

-

Alex Nales did leave the house half an hour before Amy had seen him reach the warehouse, wearing a coat and a hat, to hide his appearance from the world. The few people that passed by him didn’t even bat an eye at how he was dressed, which Amy found kind of funny.

The perfect disguise was no disguise at all so, to the eyes of a cop like Amy, Alex stuck out like a sore thumb.

She was the first one to notice him, because Jake fell asleep on his seat. She wondered what it was like to wake up in the bullpen every day after he died, exhausted from working on the Foles case the day before.

Well, it wasn’t really the day before anymore, was it?

Shaking her thoughts away, she gently nudged Jake to wake him up. His eyes opened in an instant, his hand flying to his hip in search of a gun that wasn’t there.

“It’s okay!” Amy said. “It’s just me. Alex just left the building.”

Jake sighed and rubbed his eyes, before slapping his cheeks a couple of times. “Alright, I’m awake. Let’s do some old-fashioned B n E.”

“We’re not breaking the law. This is well within the jurisdiction of our investigation.” Amy said, removing the seatbelt and getting out of the car.

“Supernatural investigations aren’t really in the law, are they?”

Amy conceded him that, and they made their way inside his building. After reaching apartment 10 D, they both hesitated.

“Someone as paranoid as this guy is bound to have an alarm.” Amy said aloud, trying to bounce her thoughts off of Jake.

“You’re right… but we can only know that for sure if we try and break in. Besides, if we fail…” What he was implying quickly ran through Amy’s mind.

“I don’t want to die. Not ever again.” She said, sternly.

“Sorry, it was just…” Jake sighed. “I don’t know. I feel like, maybe, the only way for us to get out of this is make the ultimate sacrifice and die out of our own volition.”

Amy was shocked. “Where did you learn the meaning of the word ‘volition’?”

Jake scratched his neck. “Uh, I looked it up.”

She raised her eyebrows, now even more surprised. “Alright… who are you and what did you do to Jake Peralta?”

“Oh, leave me alone!” Jake exclaimed, before he anticlimactically pulled a lockpick out of his pocket and started working on the lock.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to (sloppily) manage to break Alex’s lock, and the door opened smoothly after that. Amy looked at the window and the fire escape she had fallen from, before averting her gaze to the entrance. Jake had his gun out of its strap, pointing to the darkness.

“NYPD!” He warned. “If anyone is here, you’re surrounded!”

The response to his shout was stillness and loud music from the apartments next to them.

“I think we’re in the clear.” Amy whispered, looking around the door for any alarm system. There seemed to be nothing there, so she searched for the light switch and turned it on.

“Jesus Christ.” Jake said.

The place was a mess, even more of a mess than any of them expected. Amy barely remembered the apartment from the time she went there, so the clutter was as much of a shock to her as it was to him.

Boxes filled every single space available, papers spread throughout the tables that were there. Tall brown bookshelves had all kind of books – from chemistry to old leather books. Whoever Alex was, he was a mess.

“This is going to take a while.” Amy said.

Jake sighed next to her, shoved the gun back in its strap and closed the door. “Let’s get to it then.”

She nodded, and headed towards the table, searching through the papers. They were complex chemistry equations, but its purpose wasn’t clear, and Amy really didn’t have the time to take a college-level course on the matter. She shrugged the papers aside and moved on to the next pile.

The next hour was spent like that: Jake and Amy would come across an interesting paper, only to realise it was so advanced they’d have to bring it to the lab specialists to get some information out of them. That would mean bringing a mountain of papers to the bullpen and – a thought that terrified Amy more than anything – it meant showing Holt that they went directly against his orders. She shivered at the shouting match that would ensue if this was to ever leak out to him.

“Hey, Amy, I may have found something.” Jake said, hunched over a box and holding a yellow file.

She made his way towards him. “What is it?”

The paper he held in his hands was some kind of schematics for something that looked vaguely familiar to Amy. She just couldn’t pinpoint what.

“I don’t know.” He scratched his head. “But something about it feels like I’ve already seen it before.”

“Do you mind if I…?” She pointed towards the file, and he promptly gave it to her.

“Be my guest. I’m going to shuffle through some more boxes.”

She nodded and scrolled through the file, seeing the printed lines that formed some kind of object over different perspectives: from the sides, from the front and the back. It seemed to be somewhat symmetrical, apart from a device that was in the front. It was rectangular shaped, and almost looked like a trigger for something, or a countdown clo–

The realisation hit her like a truck.

“Jake, this is…” She said, but never managed to finish her sentence, as a loud booming sound came from somewhere outside the building. Out of instinct, they both threw themselves onto the floor and covered their heads.

“What the fuck was that?” Jake asked.

“I know what it was!” Amy yelled, getting up and making her way towards the fire escape, her death no longer on her mind. A trail of grey smoke could be seen from somewhere in the distance, a place that she knew too well.

“The warehouse.” Jake said. “I nearly forgot.”

“I’ve…” she gulped, hard. “I’ve died so many times that I forgot this happened. I mean,” She shook her head and averted her gaze from the smoke. “I knew it happened, I just didn’t expect…”

“For it to happen again.” He completed. “Yeah, I know.”

“What do you think this means?”

Amy went back inside, phone in hand, ready to call Holt. “I don’t know, but that bomb seems like it’s the key for all of this. I’m going to call the Captain, and I’m sure he’ll brief us with the full context of the situation.”

Jake nodded. “After an explosion, he’s sure to crack. Like a vacuum chamber.”

“That’s not –” Amy started, but caught herself. She was hearing a sound. Something she was all too familiar with.

“That’s not what?” He asked, but she shushed him. He immediately went quiet, but then his eyebrows went up. “Isn’t that…?”

“The beeping of a clock. Just like in the warehouse.”

Amy carefully walked in the direction of the sound, only to find it behind a door that seemed to lead to a closet. Carefully opening it, she saw a device so similar to the one she had seen previously (the one that had gotten her killed), that she nearly braced herself to blow up at that very moment.

The bomb, however, had other ideas.

“Fuck.” Jake said. “Fuck. Fuck!”

“Calm down.” Amy said. “We still have a chance.” The clock was on five minutes.

“We have less than five minutes!” Jake yelled, pointing at the ever-decreasing countdown. “We have to _leave_.”

“What about all the people in the building? We don’t have time to evacuate everyone in five minutes. Well,” She looked at the clock. “Four minutes and thirty seconds.”

“I don’t…” He grabbed his head, and knocked on it with his fist. “Come on… think, think, think! There’s got to be a way out of this.”

Amy pointed at the yellow folder that she had dropped after the warehouse exploded “Jake! Hand me the schematics! I’m going to try and reverse engineer it and try to stop the bomb!”

Jake ran over to the spot and threw her the file. “Alright! While you do that, I’m going to warn everyone to leave!”

Amy nodded, and focused her attention on the file.

Four minutes was never going to be enough to defuse the bomb, the logical part of her brain said. But the hopeful part drove over it and said that it _had _to be enough, otherwise she’d die. All of the people in the building would die.

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed the sharpest knife she could find, as well as a screwdriver. Fortunately, she was a fast reader, so by the time she had unscrewed most things, all the wires exposed and sweat dripping down her forehead, half of the schematics had been read.

“Come on, come on…” She said to herself, and looked at the clock. One minute left. “Where’s the magical wire that stops all this?”

Amy flicked through the file as fast as she could, hearing the footsteps of everyone rushing down the stairs. Jake seemed to be doing a good job of getting people out, so this was all on her. Her fingers slid from image to image, tracing all the wires and what they represented. With only thirty seconds on the clock, she found it, and cut it with the knife.

The clock stopped.

Sighing with relief, she slumped down on the floor and wove her hands through her hair.

It was alright. They were going to be fine. She was going to live to see May 25th, and the mystery would be solved properly.

She looked to the door as Jake ran through it and towards her, his eyes asking the question.

“It’s done.” She said. “I did it.”

“Thank Go–”

He was interrupted by an explosion that turned them both to ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The revelation has been set!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uh... ran a bit wild with the imagery here. beware

Amy woke up, feeling the heat all over her skin, still reeling from the explosion. She closed her eyes and grabbed onto her head, trying to find a reason for the bomb going off. The schematics were either faulty or, the most likely option, she failed. She couldn’t find the right wires, she couldn’t do anything to save herself or Jake. Or everyone inside the building. Jesus, how many people had died? How many people did Jake manage to get to safety?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain near her wrist. She hissed and turned her right wrist around, only to look at a small bruise on it. Cocking her head to the side, she brushed it with her finger, only to find it was _hot._

It was a burn mark, she realised.

Her phone rang and she picked it up, immediately knowing who it was.

“Jake, do you…”

“Amy, are you…” Jake said, at the same time as her.

She went quiet, staring in disbelief at her wrist. How could this be happening? None of the other times she stayed with a permanent mark on her body from dying, so it didn’t make any sense.

“Do you have a bruise?” She said, after the silence on the line became unbearable.

“Yeah I… I do. On my left wrist.” He paused, clearly uncomfortable with the question, but she knew it had confirmed his suspicion. “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know.” She answered, truthfully.

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what it is.” Jake started, but when she thought he was going to keep talking, he asked her to go to the precinct. Amy said she’d be there, but not before asking one last question.

“Can I at least have a hint about what this is about?”

“We’re running out of time.”

* * *

His words echoed in her head as she put her burn under cold water to alleviate the tension that it seemed to put on her wrist. They followed her as she showered, as she got dressed, as she grabbed her coffee cup and as she went down the stairs of her building.

She barely noticed that he wasn’t on his desk when she stepped into the bullpen, preferring to just sit at her place and type her credentials into her computer. Almost in autopilot, she started gathering all the information she had on the serial arsonist she had been tracking for the last couple of days, only to realise that she hadn’t really thought about him for nearly two weeks now. Well, two weeks if you counted living and reliving the same day thirteen times over as “days passing”.

She didn’t think there would be any consequences to this. Logically, it made sense that if she felt some of the pain from her previous deaths when she woke up, marks should be appearing on her body. But nothing about her (_their_) situation was logical, so maybe it really was a consequence-free kind of hell loop.

But looking at her wrist, the burn mark that was already fading, she couldn’t help but feel terror grasping her. Jake’s words didn’t help either.

_We’re running out of time_.

Running out of time? What time? Time seemed to mean nothing to her. Experiencing the same things everyday were supposed to be a source of comfort for her, not anxiety. It didn’t make any sense why things suddenly seemed to be catching up to her.

The horror of her situation really crashed on her then, and she felt sick. She ran towards the bathroom as Holt stepped out of the elevator and managed to reach the toilet just in time to throw up her breakfast onto the white porcelain. She flushed and cleaned her mouth with toilet paper, before leaning down and slowly sliding until she hit the (admittedly disgusting) tiled floor and leaned her head backwards.

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore everything. Her mind wouldn’t let her do it of course, focusing on the most trivial things: a leaking pipe that had water falling somewhere, people talking on the floor of the precinct she was in, their morning routine just starting. It all felt so insignificant, yet it held the most meaning to her.

Everyone there had reasons to live for. What was hers?

She kept her eyes closed for a long time, letting the darkness swallow her, before hearing a knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey, Ames?” Jake’s voice was muffled by the door, but she could still tell it was him. “Holt said that you came rushing here.”

She opened her eyes and morosely, almost painfully, stood up from her spot, brushing her pants.

“I’m fine.” Amy lied.

He must’ve caught her voice, how it quivered slightly. “You know that catching liars is literally part of my job description, right?”

She wanted to smile at his comment, she really did. It was such a Jake thing to say, and that was what drove her over the edge.

“Well, maybe…” She opened the door that separated them, and Jake took a step back from her. “Maybe if you were less cryptic in your bullshit, I wouldn’t be having a panic attack in a bathroom right now.”

“You were…”

Amy didn’t let him finish. All the pent-up anger and fear and anxiety came out of her, and she couldn’t stop herself. “I was, yes. And where were you? You know, I basically had the biggest existential crisis in the history of mankind, I even threw up in a toilet. The funniest thing about this whole ordeal is that you really don’t care, do you?” He flinched, but she ignored it. “You probably think this is just a scenario from a really cool action film and you can’t wait to jump off a roof while an explosion blows behind you without a care in the world, when innocent people are dying – or sure, if you want to get technical, _will _die – because of something we’re meant to be investigating!”

She was nearly yelling now, drawing attention from passing officers. She didn’t care though, she didn’t care how Jake’s face seem to be contorted into something that passed as anger. Amy pushed a finger into his chest, throwing out one last accusation.

“If this is such a fantasy of yours, maybe you should just do the world a favour and work on this alone. God knows it’s the only you’re good at, right? Working alone is what you do best. Well, to that I say: be alone, Jake Peralta. I’m _tired_ of your games and jokes.”

Amy put her palms in front of her mouth and stopped. His face seemed to age ten years at her last words, and something that she could compare to misery passed through his eyes.

“I see.” Jake said, plainly. Monotone. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

“No wait, Jake, I didn’t…”

She didn’t what? What had she hadn’t meant to say?

Amy cursed herself, as he turned his back to her and walked towards the bullpen.

* * *

She didn’t see him for the rest of the morning.

Some part of her mind was worried about him, worried about what she’d said to him, but she still had so much fear writhing around her stomach that she needed to go to the balcony twice to smoke and calm down. Her colleagues seemed to notice her extreme behaviour, which worried her a bit, but she managed to calm people down by simply saying that she wasn’t feeling very well.

It wasn’t until after Gina threw a stapler at Charles (which made her so anxious that she nearly threw up her lunch), that Amy realised she had to do something about her situation. Getting called into Holt’s office was probably going to give her an actual stroke, so she decided to investigate alone.

She informed her Captain about “new” developments on her arsonist case and, even though she didn’t like the fact that she was lying to Holt, she felt like it was her only way of distracting herself.

Because she didn’t really know anything about the arsonist. Not really. She was going to Alex Nales’ apartment.

And she was going to take him down, once and for all.

Amy drove there with a ferocity she didn’t know she had, not caring about putting blinkers on and going at least ten miles over the speed limit, looking only at the road ahead of her. Only one thing mattered at that moment: seeing Alex’s face on the ground, handcuffs on his arms.

She reached his building and stepped out of her car. She stared at the fire escape for a moment, seeing herself falling ten stories onto the floor.

_We’re running out of time._

Jake’s words echoed in her mind, but the burn on her wrist was basically non-existent at that point, so she shook her head and ignored her gut that screamed at her that this was all wrong, that it shouldn’t be like this, that _there’s something missing! You know what it is you just don’t want to admit it–_

Amy pressed on, walking towards the building and quickly making her way, via the stairs (she was kind of terrified of elevators, at that point), to the 10th floor. She walked calmly towards apartment D, staring at the wooden door like it was the only thing in her life at that exact moment. She was about to knock on it and throw a good kick in for measure, when she noticed something: the door was ajar. And had been broken in, too, as there were splinters all over the floor.

_Shit. _She thought, and quickly took her gun out of its strap before carefully opening the door with her shoe.

She gasped when she looked inside.

The place was completely trashed. And even though it wasn’t organized before, it was much more of a mess now. Papers lay everywhere, some boxes seemed to have downright exploded or were in such a way deformed that she only knew were boxes because she had prior knowledge of it. The window was smashed, no doubt because of the table that was standing on the fire escape, the table that she had first checked the loop before.

But none of that was what made her gasp. No, it was the sight of Jake, lying perfectly still on the floor, that almost shattered her psyche.

There wasn’t any blood around him, but she didn’t even register that fact. She just sprinted in his direction, sliding onto the floor and immediately putting two fingers on his neck to check for a pulse. Amy struggled finding for it, and almost panicked until she felt a calm and soothing beat.

_Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump._

His heart was beating and at a good pace, too. It seemed like he was asleep, lying there on the wooden floor of the apartment. She looked at his face, at how peaceful he seemed, and regret soon started to creep into her veins. He seemed to be back to his old self, breathing in and out with a calm she hadn’t seen in weeks. Besides the Foles case being a huge stress on him, their situation may have aggravated how he felt and joking around may have been a way to cope with all of it.

Why had she yelled at him? It didn’t seem fair to dump all her frustrations on him, especially when he was going through the same thing as her. This hell loop was insane to her, both in a logical and illogical way, and she couldn’t believe the things she’d said. I mean, saying he was in his own fantasy? How harsh was she?

Maybe she was a bad cop, after all.

_We’re running out of time_.

She heard his words again, as she saw a small burn mark on his wrist.

* * *

When the ambulance arrived for Jake, he was still unconscious, which made Amy so worried that when she got back to the precinct with such a defeated look on her face, she was immediately surrounded by her squad.

“What happened, Santiago?” Terry asked.

“Yeah, what’s going on with Jake? Not that I care.” Gina echoed.

Rosa crossed her arms and looked at her quizzically, while Charles was crying hysterically on the floor. It all felt so much, and she nearly had a nervous breakdown right then and there if Holt hadn’t called her into his office.

“What were you doing at that man’s place, Santiago?” Holt asked, after she sat down.

Amy hesitated. He hadn’t given her any instructions to track down Alex Nales yet, but she was so tired she just thought about telling the truth. The flashback of the burn marks on hers and Jake’s wrists brought her crashing down to reality.

So, she did a thing she hated doing.

She lied again.

“Like I told you before I left, I was following up a lead on the arsonist’s case.”

“Can you show me the evidence on how you reached that conclusion?”

_Shit. I keep forgetting how good he is at this. _Amy sat up straight and looked at him dead in the eye. “I’d rather you see the paperwork after it’s completely done, sir. I’m hanging on just fine.”

He squinted (at least he seemed like he was squinting) at her, before telling her to pack her things and go home.

Amy didn’t protest, but also felt like Holt didn’t buy her excuse. I mean, why was Jake in Alex Nales’ apartment in the first place? He wasn’t even a secondary in her case (which she was thankful for, at the beginning), so it wasn’t like the Captain could believe her even if she was telling the truth – it all seemed too sketchy.

Not wanting to talk to anyone from the squad, she quickly slid out of the bullpen and went to the garage, sitting on her car for a good half an hour before deciding on a destination.

And it wasn’t home.

* * *

The hospital was filled with people, its white sterile floors and grey walls filled with the sound of meaningless chatter and smelling like random cleaning chemicals. Amy didn’t like hospitals – she didn’t like how they looked and how they made her feel. They were never good news for anyone, so wandering around this building’s halls, almost felt like wandering through a beast’s guts. Here, people were rotting in acid, on the other side, getting destroyed by heat, and above her, dangling in tiny webs that were bound to crack at any moment and dump them into humanity’s inevitable fate.

She saw Jake hanging on one of those tiny webs, white and still strong, but with threads getting looser each and every second, pulling him closer to the worst destiny possible. She was hanging above him, trying to reach for him, but unable to reach his hand without cutting some threads of her own.

_We’re running out of time._

His room was guarded by a police officer, which let her in after she showed her detective badge to him. Jake was lying on a bed, conscious now, looking at the TV screen that was showing some random drama.

He turned his head to look at her, only to face away from her again. Amy felt that like a punch in the gut.

“Hey. I thought I’d check up on you.” She said, testing the waters.

“I’m doing fine. Is the rest of the squad with you?” He asked, still not looking at her.

Amy shook her head. “Nope. It’s just me.” She walked closer to his bed and pointed to the chair. “Mind if I sit?”

He didn’t answer, so she took it as a yes. She looked back between the TV and him, trying to find a way to start a conversation. After a loud and frustrated sigh came from the small device that was set up in the room, she managed to blurt out one word.

“Sorry.”

He looked at her, now, as if he hadn’t heard her. “What?”

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Jake, I… I know what I said, okay? And I didn’t mean it. I’m just… I’m so _frustrated._ We’ve died thirteen times and I feel like we haven’t done any progress at all.” She sighed. “I know that we found out why Alex Nales is used but I still don’t know how to stop the bomb or even _why _there’s more bombs and I…”

He looked at her, intently. His expression no longer showed any signs of being mad at her, only showing sympathy for her situation. She knew it wasn’t pity because…

“…I know you’ve been going through this too, and I’ve never once stopped and considered what _you_ felt and I feel like shit for not even asking how you were because I got so caught up in trying to escape this day that I felt that if I saw the sun rise on a day that wasn’t this things would finally be over and…” She choked a sob and covered her mouth.

“Hey.” He said, after a few tears fell from her eyes. “I know how bad this is.”

“I just…” She started, but was interrupted by another sob. “I just want to live again. And I can’t do this without you.”

She felt his hand grab hers and squeeze. “You feel that?”

Amy nodded.

“Good. That means that we still have hope.”

“Hope.” She echoed, and shrugged her last remaining tears from her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Sorry about mocking you while you were having a panic attack.” Jake added, quickly. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“No you… you did good. I wanted to smile but I think if someone else would’ve talked to me I would’ve snapped at them. It’s not your fault.”

“So, you really didn’t mean any of what you said.”

She looked at him, now with clear eyes. “I really didn’t.”

He beamed at her. “Glad I didn’t lose my partner, then.”

“I’m glad, too.”

They stayed like that, holding hands and watching the TV for a long time.

_Maybe we are running out of time. _She thought. _But these little moments make it kind of worth it, in the end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! They fought and made up.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
